Fabbs!

- Matt Fabbiano, Gap Front Tail.

payday.

_lowt

Dear Cy,

wrote a letter to a ladies's man in a Royal castle last week,

still waiting on the response.

i'll be sitting on the postman,

lowt

bean town.

a big thanks goes out to Trevor and his pals for being so accommodating and to Orchard for letting us skate the ramp.

-lowt

i've got that feeling that there'll be skid marks.

*[Philadelphia, Fall 2009]

- i know this is a bit much, and could be seen as a tad overdramatic, but it's the end of the semester so give me a little slack. Also, it doesn't sound so sappy with windows down on the Turnpike.

yours,

lowt

Gangbanging @ Ground Zero

GANGBANGING AT GROUND ZERO from Slam City Skates on Vimeo.

them Palace boys took a trip across the pond...

'i'm feelin' your energy'

- this goes out to the pair of beautiful eyes that shared this day and it's adventures with me. the feet by the way belong to a Vagina Warrior with a mind unlike any i've had the chance to encounter. these eyes are helping me train my eyes.

({})

lowt

lapping mind

Untitled from Taylor Galloway on Vimeo.

sometimes people, and even places can come back to haunt you. whether you are walking in the wind or sitting on a couch. burrowing in my brain like an ear wig and surfacing to say a few whispering words at the moment i least what to hear it's mumbling memories.

as of late, i've told them to fuck off, but many times it's just egged them on even more. with the help of a puzzle piece and something nice i've since been able to relearn things i had forgotten about my own self, engaging in adventures in the simplest of places. taking the F bound train to the end of the line allowed me to rediscover sunshine, along with the definition of 'smuggle'.

so here's to getting rid of those invisible conversations,

-lowt

{please press play at the same time}

the search for a girl named ness.

it’s been over a year since my ten digits left the cobblestone roads, making friends with the enemies and canceling out any hesitation. soon my license will turn ninety degrees and i’ll be accountable for my actions. all the late night walks home with the families of fox guarding me at night and screeching in the spring mornings. walking the stalls and down little venice while the sun is warming the rest of us. it took a while to build; a lot of faults were made and even more enemies discovered, yet i’ve still got the key to some of their hearts. puking on myself in the streets of a spanish tongue and making a certain call home on an empty stomach. following the trail of the ripper and looking at the river in a different light.

i realized stella isn’t all she’s cracked up to be, but to me she’s still family and she’ll stay near. my grandmother is on my arm and my name is buried somewhere deep in the tunnel, while rosy remains perched on the ‘sill as i brush my teeth. too many chavs at the station, so i’ll take the long way and see the girls walking to school. it starts to rain, but the swans still swim and the Thames still flows and we’ll take the boat to Berlin to find ourselves in the way of all the shit they’ve shoved down our throats.

pushing though stockwell with a new found family member and taking the train with too many stuffy suits and i watched them sweat. i crossed the street of your favorite studio and drew a map of which i am sure has been put to a flame by now. i saw people with style and i saw people who thought they possessed some sort of charm, i saw spider man and mickey mouse shake hands and spread the wealth and the sorry state of south bank. i saw many students of this poor economy and those who have saved themselves the trouble of enrolling.

i got offered some interesting things from a woman in Prague that we can discuss at a later date, if you ask at the right time. we put our hands to the sky above the foundation Stalin fell from and looked to the grid with triumph. walked under the arch that divided humans and separated families, it’s been turned into ‘art’ incase you were wondering. he’ll never be the king of Spain, yet he never really tried.

forever on the dizzy path with thornhill forever in my heart. i set out with the right tools and no knowledge of their purpose. taking the wrong path in a parc changed my outlook, of which couldn’t be done without the respectable nation of Sweden. i found something that has been called ‘london-ness’ by those who have come before. on the mediterranean, of all places.

once you find this ‘london-ness’, it is hard to harness it, to hold it down, cause that bitch ain’t gonna wait for you. so, on that note, if you lose it, you haven’t really lost it per se. just adjust the angle of that eyebrain, cause i know mine has been loose as of late. if all else fails, strap up the blazers, a duffel bag, and a napsack of 120. the screws aren’t as loose, you’ll be happy to hear, and i’m back on the dizzy path thanks to a few outside elements and companions i’ve picked up since departing from the cobblestone sanctuary of one year past.

time to put the crown home.

I woke up with a hangover for the third night in a row:

free drinks,

free blow,

exposed breasts and the eiffel tower

it’d be nice to hold on, onto the power for once

to make it out of bed before nine.

three night shifts:

shoe shine each afternoon

use the force to open the automatic doors,

shielding my shameless reflection by the ‘enter’ sticker

no carb diet, cause the suit’s got to fit

they filled the cups with skittles,

i specifically said just green.

my hands hadn’t been shaking this much since

i was aboard the porcelaine spaceship

don’t they know how important it is to separate the colors....?

there are condom wrappers

from last night’s after show activities, who knew?

i still had the juice,

i invented the fuckin’ juice.

my hips felt out of alignment

squinting without any sense of direction,

my butt cheeks quivered and the sense of power

scampered around the rest of my torso.

smiling faces,

young women; old men

honeymooners who won’t

last long enough to wash their sheets.

keep gawking,

keep fucking your secretary,

keep telling your wife you miss her, that you’ll get another calling card soon

keep telling your son lies

keep driving the car you don’t own

wipe that smile off your face, i’ve seen your kind here before

so

i recommend you get comfortable;

get out your spreadsheets and take a lesson from the king.

the 80's are back

The SurfExpo is full of some full on kooks, but in the spare room which looked like an airplane hanger was a time portal, dated to transport you to the 1980's. Dead center in the middle of the room was a perfect vert ramp, looking like something directly out of one of Tony Hawk's Pro Skater video games.

A big thanks to the SPoT guys for letting me tag along on this adventure and watch an awesome contest where the people who entered were having fun for a change. I'd also like to thank Holmes for giving everyone in the crowd a taste of his lap dance skills. P.S. : Mike Frazier is still better than any pro out when it comes to lip tricks and power.

what i should have told you...

end of December, 2010

*Kodak Portra 400, Nikon One Touch 90

-lowt

thoughts over the Carolinas.

i could be broadcasting this to you from anywhere in the world, i'd rather be broadcasting from the gulf coast of Florida, knee deep in sea weeds rather than ankle deep in snow, but the homeland is not far out of reach. holding onto the sea is not a healthy activity, it will drive one to the brink of madness. you heard what happened to the man who lived by the tides, no? at least that's what i thought until the door of a red honda civic shut and locked.

making the bed and erasing any evidence i'd been there at all, i packed up and left a note on the table before locking the door behind me. six days felt like fifteen and my legs weren't ready for the cold they'd fleed from. somethings will make themselves known to a person after a couple days with soft sand between their toes.

as for the point i am beating around the bush trying to make: sometimes the human heart can take the shape of an orange, fall on fake cement, and wake up with condensation on the windows on a guest room in Ybor City. it is a hard concept to grasp, let alone practice: being in two places at one time, but the air and sea can make it happen if you use their messages the right way*

he's on the right track:

see you in seat 13A bright and early......

lowt

dreams of missing teeth
cotton sheets and open blinds
with dry skin and the heat of my own trailing mind

but then your foot hits my leg
yes, the right foot to my left calf muscle,
that third toe with the nail you always forget to clip,
that's the one that ended my state.
it couldn't be helped, but naturally i woke up,
had had enough of these dreams and mental pulls
to depart
withdraw
be gone
and finally
......... 6:08 a.m., some distant day around august.





-here's to dry skin,

lowt